Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints
by venus as a girl
Summary: Vince has nothing left, except his beat up old car and the alcohol that keeps him feeling like he is still a part of the world. But one day will change that, and he will land himself into a whole new world of trouble, with a girl he doesn't even know.
1. Chapter 1

**Discmlaimer:** I own nothing affiliated with the Fast and the Furious, or anything else you may recognise. This is for entertainment purposes only.

**AN:** Hey there. Well, as you may have guessed, this is a Vince central story. It's basically just a take on what could have happened, and how he deals with something completely unexpected. There's not much else to tell really, if you're interested it would be nice if you had a read, maybe told me your thoughts. Ok, cool. Truly yours, Venus.

Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints

Act One

_Vince_

He couldn't stand it. He had no way of getting his car back, so he was stuck driving a bucket with wheels until he figured something out. He was a convicted felon so nobody was going to take any chances helping him out. He was stuck and he knew it.

He pulled into the store car park, glaring at the two wannabe ricers who were pointing and jeering at his car. He turned his glare to the car, kicked the wheel with his heel before walking toward the store. He needed a drink. And he didn't want no damn beer; this was a call for strong, hard liquor. He walked straight into the store, knowing exactly where he was heading. He'd been away for so long but it still hadn't changed. The alcohol aisle was still in the same place, layout the same. He stopped before the whiskeys, trying to decide whether he wanted the big bottle or the bigger bottle. It wasn't really a contest, so he picked up the more expensive of the two bottles of Jim Beam, grabbed a six pack of beer, his usual staple diet and headed toward the checkout.

He paid for the drink and wandered outside, muttering under his breath at the dumbass students that always get employed by places like that. No, he did not have a saver card, and no he didn't want to get one. And no, he also didn't want a coupon for a free meal for two at _Frankie and Joe's_ because for one, did he look like the type of person who would go to a fifties diner? And two, he was just a one, not a two.

He headed toward the area he was parked when the two punks that had been laughing at him previously walked past him.

"Hey dude, someone's tryin'a steal that hunk a' junk you were drivin'," one of them said. They both began laughing again as he cursed and broke into a sprint towards his vehicle. It might have been scrap metal but it belonged to him and he'd be damned if anyone weas going to steal that away from him as well.

He reached the car just as the cretin managed to hotwire the engine and it spluttered to life. He ripped his keys from his pocket, opening the passenger door and jumping in the car as the tires screeched. He slammed the door shut as they began speeding from the parking lot.

"What the fuck do you think you're doin'?!" He yelled, discarding his alcohol by his feet before grabbing the hands of the thief and yanking the wheel towards him. "Shit!" He turned the wheel the other way before they hit an unsuspecting pedestrian. He looked up at the car burglar, shock forming at his mouth in the form of another cuss.

"Jesus, the one time I steal a pile of crap car and someone catches me!" She shouted out loud.

"Hey honey, don't even start on my car. It might be a banger but it's my banger and you are not getting away with it," he seethed at her, totally out of control of the situation. As they squealed around a corner, he decided it safer to slip his seat belt on. She wasn't getting away with his car so if she wanted it, he came with it. A package deal.

"Look, I just needed to get away alright; I don't want your friggin' car," she began, in a slightly New York accent. 'I mean I probably woulda kept it 'cause it's not like people woulda made much effort tryin' to find it - well at least that's what I thought until you came along. I mean no offense, but it is a junk pile. It runs ok I guess, but I thought I'd go for the worst one and -"

"Don't you ever shut up?" He looked at her, clenching his fist, mind working overtime to try and figure out how he was going to gain control over the situation.

"I'm sorry, okay. I just need to get away. When we get to the place I'm headed, you can have your car back."

"No, this is not going to be some form of deal, kid. This is my car, and you will pull the fuck over!" He yelled. He knew no other way but force but she didn't seem to be taking heed. He wished he could have believed that she would obey him but things seemed to be taking a different road. "Now!"

She glanced over at him quickly, and the clear anger on his face was enough to terrify her. Of course, she tried not to let this show. She carried on driving, dodging through the evening traffic to an unknown location. He sighed next to her, clearly not drilling his point across. But what could he do? He couldn't try and take over like his initial thoughts had told him to. He didn't want to risk his neck and kill them both. As he slammed his fist down on the dashboard, she jumped in her seat and then felt her cheeks burn when she noticed that he had seen her do so.

She gulped and bit down on her lip, hoping that he wouldn't do anything worse. She thought he looked like kind of a brute, there was anger in his eyes which she imagined was there a lot of the time. But from her experience, underneath the exterior was just a person looking for something - acceptance, closure, maybe even love.

"Where are you going?" He asked, looking around and not having a clue where they were heading. When she didn't answer, he shook his head, muttering again.

This was the type of thing that would only happen to him. He'd been out for three weeks and already someone had attempted to steal his car._At least it's not the Maxima_, he thought. He was so down on his luck at that moment and it pissed him off to high heaven. Hadn't he gone through enough already, paid off his debt? He had nothing left, not his car, not his family.

It was just another thing he was going to have to face alone. But to what avail? He was a hot head, and he had too much pride to even consider asking for help. But that was something he had come to expect from the team and he hadn't even told anyone that he was out. He would do of course. He missed them all immensely but for some reason he felt like he needed to prepare himself for seeing them again.

Mia had visted him within the first week of him being put away. As much as he loved that girl, he couldn't stand seeing her from the 'other side' and he had actually got angry with her. He regretted it deeply, but he had yelled at her and told her to not visit him again. She had left in tears and it broke his heart. But he just couldn't do it.

She had written to him after that, which he really hadn't expected. Even though she was young, she really was like a mother figure to them all. She was sort of the behind the scenes person, who held everything together and who everyone apreciated like no other - though they probably didn't show it often enough. Thankfully, she had understood why he couldn't stand seeing her. She had kept him sane when things went from bad to worse to almost insufferable. At night, after the fights or the punishments from the wardens, he would lay awake all night some nights just thinking of her.

He grabbed the bottle of Jim Beam from the plastic carrier bag and ripped the lid off. He took a long swig from the bottle, the alcohol leaving a burning sensation in his chest. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to calm himself down and failing.

"Look we'll be there in-"

"Shut up," he said forcefully. She bit her lip again, gripping the wheel harder as she began to get off the freeway. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. She seemed to know her way around the city, yet didn't appear to know where she was heading. This was just great. What was he meant to do, trapped inside his own car with some chick who knew enough to be able to steal it, but really had no idea what she was doing?

"What are you running from?" He asked, not taking his eyes off her. She tensed up again, and he was beginning to worry about the speed they were travelling. She seemed to be a capable driver, now that she had calmed down and he sincerely hoped she wouldn't try anything stupid.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"Well I didn't believe that a girl would ever steal my car so I think I could believe anything at the moment," he said, his tone a little less harsh than it had been. He watched her as she drove. She was debating whether to spill her guts to him, but then she knew she would be in a weaker position than she was already in and she wanted to keep some leverage.

She was scared, terrified in fact, and though he seemed a little less angry at her now she couldn't bare to tell anyone, let alone him, why she was running. She just needed to get as far away from them as she could. And fast.

"Nobody has this far, so you probably won't either," she replied, her voice trying to be cold but seemed to be filled with remorse. Possibly regret. "Listen, okay. I'm gonna drop you off at a gas station 'cause you're gonna need to fill your tank." She fished a twenty dollar bill out from her jeans pocket and threw it into his lap.

"Gee, thanks little girl. I really appreciate you stealing my car and then paying for the gas. What is wrong with you?" He fumed, holding up the bill.

"Don't even ask."

"I didn't expect an answer," he spat, taking another gulp from the bottle in his hand. He was trying to formulate a plan as fast as he possibly could. He breathed deeply, his mind in overdrive. He screwed the cap back on the bottle, shoving it back in the bag.

He flicked the car stereo on, an idle attempt to fill the silence. When she didn't like the CD that came blaring out, she turned her nose up in disgust and changed it to the radio, tuning into some station or other. Anything was better than that junk, she thought, just before the man beside her pushed the disc back into the stereo. She reached over again, about to push another button before he grabbed her arm and placed her hand firmly on the steering wheel. She flinched at his touch and began shaking slightly. It didn't seem like he had noticed, but she wasn't paying that much attention to him anymore.

He turned the stereo off again, to be honest, he couldn't bare to listen to anything any more than she could. "Would you slow down? Are you trying to kill us both or something?"

"Anything would be better than _them_," she said quietly. He cocked his head at her but she didn't elaborate any further. He appeared to have met someone that was equally as fucked up as him. He knew how many mistakes could occur from someone like that - he had lived it himself.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Barbara," muttered Vince, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh. Well_ Barbara_," she began, earning her a somewhat menacing look. "Okay. Never mind."

She swerved around a corner, scarcely skimming past an oncoming car. "Watch out!" He exclaimed. "Jesus, you sure this isn't a suicide run?" He gripped the door handle with one hand as she seemed to be gaining speed and making stupid decisions.

Behind them, a car was steadily gaining on them. Speeding around another corner, the car fishtailed slightly out of control. "Shit," she muttered.

"What are you doing?" Shouted Vince, gripping the door handle, to avoid ending up on the drivers side.

"They're behind us," she gasped, her voice giving away the fact that she was on the verge of tears. Vince looked around to see the blacked out vehicle following their every move. Before he knew it, they rammed into the back of his car, sending them hurtling forward, and causing him to almost hit his head on the dashboard.

The girl beside him was losing control of the car, but he realised it must have been more than just the speed they were going. The car giving chase was wrecking his car, having rammed them three times now.

She was full out crying now, tears streaming down her pale cheeks and causing her hair to stick to them. He had no idea what the hell kind of situation he had gotten himself into but for some reason, unknown to him, he wanted to help the girl thief.

The other car was steadily pulling up beside them now, getting ready to ram them off the road. Vince's car was spluttering and groaning. One more hit coul send it over the edge and kill them both. Thinking quickly, Vince looked around, and spotted an abandoned multi-story car park that the Team often used if they ever found themselves in a police chase, a few blocks ahead of them.

"Look, I need you to trust me now. I need you to do as I say, ok?" She looked at him, shaking and upon seeing the seriousness in his face, she nodded. "Right, when I tell you, I want you to get ready and ram into the side of their car. Can you do that?"

"I-I think so."

"OK. When I tell you ok, then we're gonna head for that parking lot up ahead, you see it?" She looked, and then nodded. "Ok...NOW!"

She veered right slightly, then slammed the wheel to the left, crashing into the car and sending it the opposite way. Vince craned his neck in time to see it hurtle into the back of a hummer, and he breathed a quick sigh.

They were almost at the parking lot and he said, "I want you to go to the underground level."

She nodded again, steering the car into the entrance and driving into the dark and dingy underground level. She shut off the engine and they both jumped out of the car, while Vince motioned for her to follow him. He led them to a side door that lead out into an alleyway. It smelt of urine and they both curled their noses and moved quickly towards the stone steps, Vince still leadig the way.

Once at the top, he checked both ways and found that the street was practically empty. The girl prepared to walk out into the straight but he held up his arm and stopped her. She looked at him, her tear stained face looked all the more vulnerable close-up.

"I'm going first. I want you to wait here and then flag down a taxi or whatever. Just get out of here ok."

"You're just gonna leave me? What if they come back? What if they find me?"

"That's not my problem, honey. I don't know what kind of mess you're in, but I can't help you."

He began walking away but she chased after him, grabbing his arm and trying to get in front of him. "Won't you wait a second? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks and looked down at her. For a fleeting moment, she reminded him of Mia, but as quickly as he had felt it, the moment disappeared. "They're close by, they could find us here any second." He looked around, but thankfully the street was empty. It didn't make him feel any safer though.

"Please, I don't know what to do," she said quietly.

"Look," he began, the softness of his voice even surprising him. "I don't know what you've gotten yourself into - or me for that matter but -" he stopped. _Fuck it_, he thought. "Alright," he began again, sighing. "We can go back to my apartment, just so that we're safe. But you have to tell me what's going on when we get there, because I'm not helping someone if I don't know why I'm helping them. I don't _help_ people, it's not me."

"Ok. Thanks...uh-"

"It's Vince."

"Well, thanks Vince." She smiled meekly, her eyes still brimming with tears. "I'm Jenny."


	2. Chapter 2

**Discmlaimer:** I own nothing affiliated with the Fast and the Furious, or anything else you may recognise. This is for entertainment purposes only.

**AN:** Hey again. So, here's the second chapter - it's not particuarly long, but I don't want to go giving away too much in one go now, do I? Thanks to those of you who reviewed, hope you enjoy this one. Venus x

Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints

Act One

_Vince_

The taxi driver was listening to some form of ethnic music. In a way, it was kind of beautiful because they had no idea what it all meant, what the men seemed to be wailing about, but that seemed to be the enticing idea of it. It was the only noise other than the low rumble of the car, that filled the void. Jenny was as close to the door as possible, staring out of the window, presumably on the lookout for whoever was after her. The streets all seemed to blur into one and Vince barely registered where they were. He just wanted to be the one in the driving seat. That was one of the main things he had missed over the past few years and now he had to wait again until he could afford another piece of crap car. It wasn't the same, but it at least meant he was behind the wheel, doing the only thing he was any good at.

If none of this had happened, he probably would have been half-baked, staring at his phone and contemplating calling them. It was an idea he had been toying with ever since he got out, but even with his copious amounts of Dutch courage he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Because that meant he had to face them, face their relief that he was back with them and that they could maybe get back to some weird form of normality, when of course in the back of everyone's mind, they'd know nothing would ever be how it once was. They had had the life they'd wanted, they were getting to race and work on cars and they went right ahead and took a piss all over the idea of just being happy with each other. They started doing the heist's.

This was where his stupidity had come into play. He was the first one Dom had convinced, because they were best friends for life - their unspoken blood brothers pact had been in Dom's eyes when he explained everything to him. It was meant to be an easy job. Easy for everyone else, at least. Vince was the one who had to climb out of the car, get onto the truck, knock out the driver and then drive the truck to the abandoned warehouse. It should have been Dominic up there, but he would never have said so. And he just carried on until it nearly cost him his life.

"Vince?"

He looked over at Jenny, who now had her hand on his shoulder. Beneath his shirt, the scar that was a constant reminder of that fateful day seemed to ache dully. She took her hand away quickly, "We're here."

He looked round and sure enough there was his building, run down and depressing. He fished out some cash from his pocket and handed it to the driver, before getting out. Jenny joined him on the pavement, seeming somewhat skittish. Understandable though, Vince thought, even though he had no idea why it should be.

They both remained in the same silence as he led her to his apartment on the third floor. She stood in the doorway as he threw his keys onto a dusty table and stalked into the kitchen. He stood with the fridge door open, no idea why, it was just a habit. All that was in it was a container of Chinese food - when did he have Chinese food? - some gone off milk and a can of beer. He grabbed the beer, cracking it open and slammed the door shut with his foot. Then he noticed that she hadn't followed him and when he got back to the living room saw that she was still in the doorway, looking around.

"You comin' in or what?" He kicked his boots off and collapsed onto the dilapidated couch, turning the TV on with the remote and letting out a belch. Normally he would have had a smidgen more etiquette around the fairer sex but he was beyond caring about trying to impress this girl. There was something about her, definitely, but it wasn't something that had really peaked his interest.

She shut the door quietly and walked over to the couch, perching on the edge and staring blankly at the TV. He stared at her, frequently taking gulps of his beer. He knew that he was making her uncomfortable, but he was waiting for the answers she had promised. She tucked her hair behind her ear. Then, crossed her legs, uncrossed them.

He smiled slightly, enjoying the fact that he was having such an effect on her. "So?" He asked, making her jump. She looked at him and gave him a quick smile. "C'mon l'il lady, what's the deal? Why did you beg me to bring you back here? I know it ain't for the four star accommodation, so c'mon."

She swallowed loudly and ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I know I said I would tell you but I don't think I really can."

"You've gotta be kiddin'."

"I just think it would probably be better if you don't know anything. Then you can't tell them anything if they find me."

"You honestly believe I'm that stupid? I might look it sister, but don't think for a second that I'm going to allow you to pull that crap on me."

She looked at him, and he guessed she was probably regretting the whole thing now. Of all the people in the whole of the city, she just happened to be rescued by him. Oh joy of joys. He was annoyed with her, and the whole situation. He had no car because of her. He had been stupid enough to think she would actually tell him anything. He couldn't blame her, but he was allowed to be royally pissed off with her.

He hated being out of the loop. He couldn't stand not knowing what situation he was in because it left him open to too much surprise. If the people out to get Jenny were something to be reckoned with, he wanted to know. If they were going to find her, to find him, he wanted to know. Hell, he had the right to know if someone was going to burst down his door, all guns blazing, at any moment.

"The only reason I let you come here is because you said you would tell me why you were here. If you're not going to do that you can get the hell out of here."

"That's what you want?"

Vince looked at her. He hadn't really expected that type of question, because honestly he had no idea what he wanted. He was just out to save his own back. It was his primal instinct and he didn't want to remain in the situation. He had no answer for her, so he just continued staring at her.

"Okay." She got up and went to the door. He was still watching after her as she opened it, "Thanks anyway, Vince. You saved me today."

With that, she left, leaving him watching the closed door. He felt some kind of guilt, but it wasn't quite enough to possess him to follow her. She was on her own now, that wasn't his problem.

x

He had fallen asleep on the couch, the television still playing to itself quietly. He heard a knock at the door, wondering if this was what had woken him up in the first place. It was dark outside now and despite the glare from the television, he still stubbed his toe on the wheel of the couch. He cursed to himself as he made is weary way to the door. The person on the other side knocked again and he grunted out "Hold on!"

He opened the door and saw the last person he expected. Jenny. She was holding a brown paper grocery bag and she attempted a smile. "I bought you a piece offering."

She handed over the bag and he eyed her suspiciously. Slowly, he looked down into the bag and found a six pack and a bottle of whiskey. Shaking his head he smiled and took the bag into the kitchen. This time, she followed him, her hands in the pockets of her slim jeans. Silently, he took two off the beers and shoved the rest in the fridge. He handed one over to her, an eyebrow slightly arched as he cracked his own open with a _fizz_.

They went into the living room, Vince turning on a light as he went. He hadn't said a word to her, he didn't really have anything to say. But he decided if she wanted to tell him anything, she could. But either way, tomorrow he was going to sort the whole business out.

They sat watching some typical Kung Fu movie for a while, both of them getting strangely enticed by it. Vince loved Kung Fu films anyway, they reminded him of being home. They reminded him of Jesse, mainly. If it was his turn to pick the film, he would always choose Enter the Dragon or Fist of Fury or something that starred Bruce Lee. He loved the honour involved, and the discipline in the fighting. That's what he always said, but Vince figured it was just because he enjoyed watching people get their asses kicked.

The film had been finished for a while and had been followed by some late night horror. Jenny seemed to shake herself out of her trance and broke the silence that had been strangely comfortable.

"I want to tell you what happened today."

"Thought you said you couldn't."

"I know," she sighed. "But, you really helped me today and I was thinking earlier when you made me leave that it wasn't fair of me to expect you to help me when you don't know anything about me."

"You don't know anything about me either. For all you know, I could kill babies."

"So could I," she shrugged.

"So, we've got that in common then." She looked at him for a second and laughed. He shook his head but couldn't help a little chuckle himself. "You want another one?" He asked, holding up his now empty beer can. She nodded and he went to the kitchen, returning with two fresh cold ones.

"I...Well, I can't tell you everything. But I guess you could say it's to do with my boss, and this other guy."

"Yeah, so?"

"I, uh - well, it's complicated."

"So's quantum physics but Steven Hawkins still takes a whack at it."

She nodded, knowing that he had given up on pushing her into telling him. But she had to give him something. "My boss. He's trying to find someone. Someone who owes him, like, five million dollars or somethin' crazy. But this guy left town as soon as the heat got too much for him, so my boss has been tryin'a find him for the past four years and has just recently caught onto this big lead..."

Vince stared at her, she was being far too vague for his liking.

"Well, I've only been working for this guy for like eight months but now he thinks that I'm somehow involved with this other guy and sees me as some kind of threat. Like I'm working undercover or somethin', I dunno. But he didn't know that I knew this, I overheard him on the phone last night after he thought I'd gone and he was saying all this stuff about how I needed to be watched and if I did anything stupid I was to be taken care of. So, on my lunch hour today I decided I had to get out of there and that's why I tried to steal your car. I mean, he knows mine, I couldn't escape the city if he knew what car I was drivin', ya know? But I guess he was having me followed or somethin'..." Her eyes were welling up and she fiercely wiped the tears away this time.

Now, Vince's main decision was whether or not he trusted her. Did he want to let a perfect stranger stay with him, even though she was vulnerable and he had a good sixty pounds on her? He was the last person to be trusting in someone he didn't know, but here she was opening up to him, despite the intimidation issue. She had bought him beer though, and whiskey, so that was a small bonus for all the aggravation she'd caused him that day.

"I''m gonna order food, you want somethin'? Or are you on some weird diet?"

"Urm," she began, clearing her throat when her first utterance came out watery. "What are you getting?"

"Pizza?"

"Oh, uh, I haven't got any money. Everything was in your car."

"That's not what I asked. You like anything?"

"As long as it's not pineapple, yeah."

"Yeah, I never got the deal with that either. Who wants fruit on a damn pizza?"

She laughed slightly, and he half smiled,once again. Well, maybe they did have something else in common after all, even if it was a common culinary distaste.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** - Same as always.

**AN** - Thanks for the reviews, you're all stars. Ok, I get that you want the Maxima back, but give it time, it'd be no fun if it was that easy. I'm gonna do a little plugging for my other story that could do with a little love as well. It's called State of Emergency, I'm sure you could find it. It'd be awesome if I got some feedback for it, but no worries if not I guess. Anyway, that's enough babbling from me. On with the show. Venus x

Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints

Act One

_Vince_

The dreams didn't happen as often as they used to. When he was still in the hospital, he would wake up in the middle of the night, cold sweat drenching his skin, after re-living what could have been his final moments. They were basically the same every time. He would be on the truck, his arm caught in the wire, his side pouring with blood - only the Buster wouldn't show up to save him. The wire would cut through his arm more and more, reaching bone, and his arm would break and he would be free of the wire. And he would fall.

He would always wake with a jolt, as though he had felt himself land against the tarmac. But he would be in bed, shaking, alone, unable to rid himself of the thought of what could have been. Occasionally, the details would change, sometimes Brian would be close by – Mia would be close by – but they wouldn't reach him in time. And once, they had reached him, but instead of saving him they watched. And they laughed.

Thankfully, that had only been one time - his first night in prison.

This time, he woke up at the point where he was just giving up hope, the point where he knew he was going to die. He woke up to the door closing. His eyes sprang open, his breath caught in his throat for a moment. He sat up, and saw Jenny. For a second, he didn't recognise her, but she smiled at him and everything was suddenly okay.

"Morning," she said, brightly. Vince grunted in return – he was not a morning person. She went into the kitchen and he followed her, his bed sheet wrapped around his waist. He had let her use the bed that night, and in the back of his mind he figured that sleeping on the couch was probably the reason behind the dream. Though he was usually a heavy sleeper, that night he had had trouble getting there.

As he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, she looked up. He saw her give his body the quick once over, her gaze lingering on the ugly scar on the side of his torso. She seemed about to ask about it, but thought against it.

"I thought I'd make you a good breakfast, y'know since you haven't got any food in here except leftover pizza. And as a thank you." She stated, pulling out eggs, bacon, hash browns, and a few other ingredients.

"Where did you get the money? I thought you didn't have any last night?"

"Urm, well, let's say I should probably stay away from that store down the street for a while as they're liable to call in some reinforcements." Her eyes flashed mischievously at Vince, and he had to think about what she had said for a moment. Seeing the recognition finally upon his face, she smiled wickedly and began searching through cupboards for cooking utensils.

He yawned as he sat down at the table and began flicking through the newspaper she had also procured on her trip to the store. A few pages in, there was a double paged article about the incident of the day before. A big picture of the crumpled car they had sent flying to it's death was on one side, and the article followed on the other. He skimmed through it quickly and then re-read it once more, this time taking in the details. Luckily, there was no mention of him or Jenny, but a statement from a witness mentioned his beat-up old car being involved. All he could hope for was that they wouldn't find his car and trace it back to him.

"You seen this?" Vince asked Jenny. She turned around, a frying pan in her hand and an inquisitive look on her face. "About yesterday." He turned the paper round, allowing her a better look and he saw her eyes widen. She swallowed thickly and looked back up at him.

"You don't think they'll come after us, do you?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Shit."

"We don't need to worry about that until it happens though. They might not even do anything."

"_We?_" She asked.

"It was my car, they can trace these things back to people, y'know."

"Oh." She replied, turning away. "Yeah."

He continued flipping idly through the pages of the paper, while she rustled up his breakfast. Before he knew it, there was a billow of smoke, and the smell of burning stung Vince's nostrils. He looked up, but Jenny didn't seem to be phased by this at all. Thankfully a window was already open, but now Vince was beginning to fear his food instead of looking forward to it.

Jenny placed a plate down in front of him and began pouring some kind of burnt up mush onto it. It was certainly cooked, steam wafted up into his face and he suppressed a cough and had to hide the look of disgust on his face. There was no food smell, just burning.

She gave him a fork, and sat down, smiling.

"Urm, thanks." He muttered, clutching the fork and bracing himself. He cleared his throat and plunged his fork into the mess, coming up with a small mouthful. He put it in his mouth and chewed, expecting the worst. Instead, it wasn't half as bad as he was expecting. Actually, it was kind of, dare he say it, nice.

"Is it okay?"

"Yeah, actually."

She laughed, "I can't believe you just ate it like that though! Nobody else has before. I know it looks like crap, but my dad used to make it."

"Well, I've never turned down food in my life. Not gonna go starting now," he said, shovelling more into his mouth. He had no idea what was in it, and he didn't want to, but he ate every scrap of it. Jenny picked up his plate and began washing everything up, leaving them on the draining board.

As she sat back down, she held up a packet of Camel cigarettes. "You mind?" Vince shook his head and grabbed one of the empty beer cans from the kitchen counter, for use as a makeshift ash tray. She offered him the pack and he thought for a second, before taking one. She lit a match, lighting her own cigarette and leaning across to light Vince's as well.

They smoked silently, and he occasionally caught her looking at him, but as soon as he'd make eye contact she would look away. The phone began to ring, making her jump. Vince got up to answer it, cigarette still in his hand.

"Hello?" He paused. "Yeah that'll be fine...Tuesday? Yeah...Ten o'clock...Okay, see you then. Bye."

He came back into the kitchen, offering no explanation as to who was on the phone, even though her face screamed for answers. His nonchalance seemed to be answer enough for her that he didn't want to speak about it, so she remained silent.

"So, what's your plans for the day?" She asked.

"I dunno. Guess I need to look into getting myself another car, maybe."

She winced, "Sorry."

"Ah, whatever. Just a car, right? It was nothing compared to my old car, I didn't even name this one."

"What was your old car?"

"She was a '99 Nissan Maxima. Had some trouble with her 'cause she was a temperamental son-of-a-bitch sometimes, but she was perfect for me."

"What was she called?"

"Roxanne. Roxy"

Jenny laughed, "Like the song?"

"Yep," Vince smiled.

This was one of the best memories he had of the team. Everyone had names for their cars, it had become a kind of silly tradition when they all got a new car - it wasn't official until it had been given a name. It had begun with Jesse. He had this weird thing where he had to talk to a car he was working on and he would always give them a different female name, much to the amusement of everybody else...

"_C'mon Sharon baby, you're gonna start for me now, right?" Jesse was sat behind the wheel of a Mitsubishi Lancer, keys in the ignition and splotches of oil on his face. Vince had just arrived at the garage, on his lunch break, and overheard this little exchange, wondering just who Jesse was talking to._

"_Who's Sharon?" He asked, eyebrow raised. Jesse jumped and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment._

"_Sharon is the name Jesse has given to the car he's workin' on," Letty answered, walking over to them both while wiping her hands on an oily rag. _

_Vince began laughing, "Seriously? You name the cars you work on?"_

"_Yeah," Jesse answered, meekly. _

"_It helps him if he gives the car a personality," Letty smiled, patting Jesse's shoulder reassuringly. _

"_So the Jetta?"_

"_She's called Heidi." Letty replied._

"_After Heidi Klum," Leon piped up, chuckling to himself. All three of them laughed, and Jesse got out of the car, picking up his tools and putting them away methodically in his tool box. _

"_Aww, c'mon J-man, it is pretty funny!" Leon said, through his laughter. "I've named the Skyline, if it helps?"_

_Jesse turned around, his eyebrows narrowed. "Really?"_

"_Yeah, Le, you seriously named your car too?" Asked Vince._

"_Yep. She's called Jemima." Leon grinned. Letty and Vince continued laughing and Dom emerged from his office a questioning look on his face. _

"_What's goin' on out here?"_

"_Vince just found out about Jesse naming all the cars he works on," Letty explained._

"_Yeah, and Leon too now," Vince added. Dom shook his head, a smile on his face as he looked at Jesse who seemed to be less concerned that people were mocking him now. _

"_Really?" He asked, looking at Leon, who nodded his head. _

"_Well, I guess I'm just gonna have to name my car too then."_

"_Not you too!" Letty exclaimed, looking at between the three of them, then back at Vince. "You believe these guys?"_

"_Hey now, I don't wanna be outta the loop either." He replied._

"_I'm working with children!"_

_They all began laughing at her now, as she shook her head and leaned back against the Lancer, Sharon. "So, what're you gonna call yours, Dom?" Jesse asked, unaware that they were all partaking in this just for him, to make him feel better about another of his 'things'. To help him feel more normal._

"_Well now, let's see. Mazda is a Japanese company so I'm gonna have to give her a Japanese name."_

"_How 'bout Yoko?" Leon suggested._

"_What like Yoko Ono?" _

"_Sure."_

"_That could work," Dom nodded. "Yoko. I like it."_

"_Vince?" Jesse asked. "What about the Maxima?"_

"_I've thought long and hard about this, and I'm gonna go with Roxanne."_

_This was met with silence for a moment until everybody burst out laughing, including Vince himself. He had no idea why, but that song had been stuck in his head all day and it seemed to fit perfectly for his car. A temperamental name for a temperamental car. _

"_Roxanne!" Leon sang, "Put on a red light!"_

_They all continued laughing, while Jesse turned to Letty. "C'mon Letty, you don't wanna be the only without a name for you car." He grinned at her and something inside her gave way – she couldn't help her soft spot for those dimples. _

"_All right! But my car is definitely a guy."_

"_No way! Your car's purple Let – purple! If it's a guy, it's definitely not a straight guy." Vince laughed._

"_Shut up!" She said, slugging Vince in the shoulder. "He's just comfortable with his masculinity and isn't afraid to let a strong female be in the driving seat." She said smugly, earning her some 'ooh''s from the boys. "I'm gonna call him Butch." _

"_Just to affirm that he is in fact a guy," Vince jested, dodging another punch. _

"_You got lucky then, Hopper," she said, as Vince laughed at her._

"_Calm it down there, l'il lady. Let's go introduce Mia to our new team mates," Leon interrupted, slinging his arm around Jesse and leading him out of the garage..._

Vince was smiling to himself at the memory. He couldn't deny how much he missed the team, especially Jesse and his ways. But that was the one person he knew he would never get to see again, and it pained him. He would never get to see that beanie hat, or the black-painted nails. But at least he had memories like those to keep. There was always that.

"You okay?" Jenny asked, interrupting his train of thought.

"Yeah."

"You kinda spaced out on me for a moment there."

"I'm fine." He got up, gripping the sheet round his waist. "I'm gonna get in the shower."

"Okay," she said, a look of confusion on her face due to his sudden change in attitude.

The shower was really hot, too hot in fact, just the way he liked it. It kind of numbed him and pained him at the same time. He took his time, even though he had washed his hair and body, he just stood there letting the water embody him but not really thinking of anything. It was easier to just forget.

By the time he got out, half an hour had passed, and his apartment seemed eerily quiet. He wrapped a towel around his waist, not really bothering to dry himself properly. He headed back to the kitchen, but instead of finding Jenny, he found the brown grocery bag on the table, on top of the newspaper. On it was two words.

_Thank you._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** - Samesies!

**AN** - Heyy, sorry it's been a while between updates, but I finally got some magical inspiration and here's the outcome, enjoy!

Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints

Act One

_Vince_

Vince had one of two options; he could walk two miles, or get the bus. He didn't have enough money to spare for a taxi and without having a job, he wasn't going to have enough cash to spare for anything at all if he wasn't careful. Since he had no idea what bus he would have to get, he decided walking would be his best option, even though the heat was sweltering outside.

He was making some sort of effort, he was wearing his cleanest t-shirt and jeans, and had trimmed the fuzz around his face to what he presumed to be 'acceptable'. He doubted that he would stay so well presented, however, after having walked two miles in the morning sun.

It was Tuesday morning, and he had a ten o'clock appointment with his parole officer.

She was an older lady, clearly having worked with ex-con's for many years. She had a whirl of salt and pepper hair always pinned to the peak of her head, and horn-rimmed glasses. Her down turned mouth made her look like she was constantly frowning, but Vince thought she looked rather like a big slug. Her appearance was nothing to go by however, her voice was as sweet as sugar and she always offered him a peppermint sweet from a tray on her desk.

This was to be his third meeting with her – every two weeks they occurred, though she checked in with him twice a week. It was a bit of a bind really. It meant that he couldn't leave LA, even if he wanted to. It meant that he couldn't go in search of the team, either, hence him remaining a loner. Really, he was kind of glad to have something to tie him down. It meant he didn't have to go searching for those answers that he knew he didn't want to know the answers to, so the longer he stayed where he was, the longer he remained in some kind of limbo. And until he decided what he wanted, that was how he was going to keep it.

Apart from the brief, and highly strange, encounter with Jenny, Ms. Dolores Tippin was the only real human interaction he had had since he was released. He had never been one for human bullshit. He liked to know where he stood, what his role was, and with Dominic he got that. Vince wasn't a leader but he wasn't a follower either. No matter how many stupid situations he found himself in, it was always his own choice. He knew he could have backed down from anything, but he hadn't, because he had thought he was invincible.

He and Dominic had been best friends since he could remember, and even though it had always seemed like Dom was the leader - the alpha male - he often ran things by Vince. Things like what he should choose as his first car, how he should exact his revenge on Johnny Tran and even if he thought they could pull off the heists...

"You're late, Vincent," she said, as he entered her office, panting slightly and sweating profusely.

"Yeah. Sorry," he said, slumping down in the chair opposite her desk and wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand. She had the window open wide behind her, but she was still wearing a long sleeved blouse and didn't seem to be any more flustered than usual.

"Mint?" She asked, even though he usually refused. This week, he took one, earning a small smile from her. "So, how've things been? Holding up okay?"

"Yeah. Things are alright. I think I need to start looking for a job though."

"Well, I've been looking into that for you, and if you're interested, I can set you up some interviews? I know it's not what you have in mind but if you need money then you may just have to settle for something temporary."

"Okay," he nodded.

"Now, don't expect something great. I know we've talked about this before, but there's not many places willing to take on people who have served time. But, there's a couple of gas stations, a grocery store and there's a position at the hospital for a porter. Any of those peak your interest?"

"Not really. But I need some money."

"Okay, I'll get in touch with them and let you know interview times in the next few days." She made a note of something or other on her notepad and looked back up at him.

"So how are you, Vincent? In general, how would you say you feel?"

"I dunno," he said, shaking his head. "Just getting on with things really. Going outta my mind just being in front of the idiot box all day, but you know, whatever." He cringed, remembering what had happened in the past week. "My car was stolen the other day though."

"Oh, what a shame! Did you report it?"

"Nah, it was a piece of crap anyway, I doubt they'd even believe me that someone had been willing to drive it, let alone steal it."

"Well, only if you're sure Vincent, you never know what might turn up."

"It's okay, it didn't cost me hardly nothin' anyhow."

She nodded, narrowing her eyes at him. "So what about your 'team'? Have you called them yet?"

"No."

"Are you going to?"

"No. I dunno. Maybe."

She opened a drawer in her desk and took out a white envelope. She slid it across the desk to him and he recognised what it was straight away. He took it, staring down at Mia's handwriting. "The prison forwarded that to me."

"Thanks," he muttered, turning it over and over in his hands. Dolores looked at him for a long while, as they sat in silence. When he finally looked up, he gave her a brief smile. "I know it's not my place to say, but I really think you need to contact them. Even if it's just, as silly as it sounds, just to say hi."

Vince sighed, dragging his nails across his scraggly beard. "I know. I know I need to, but right now I don't feel like I can."

"Why not?"

"I dunno. I just feel like a fuckin' failure. And I haven't spoken to them for so long, I just wouldn't even know what to say." He shook his head."I miss them all, and I've replayed what I'd say over and over but it feels like nothing I could say would feel right."

"Well, I'm sure they care about you – I mean you're still receiving letters from her, aren't you now?"

"I guess."

"You feel like, because you've been away form them for so long, that they will have gotten used to you not being there and you going back will mess up what they've got now."

He stared at her, and slowly nodded his head. What it was about this woman, he didn't know, but she made him want to open up. She was like a long lost aunt who was wise to the world. Who always knew the right thing to say. "I doubt they need me, they never did before so why would now be any different, y'know?"

"Vincent, they're your family. Of course they need you, even though they may never have shown it, I'm sure they care for you and just want you back where you belong. With them."

"Yeah."

"Look, next time I see you, I expect you to have called them, at least. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, knowing that was highly unlikely. It's not that he didn't want to, he just had no idea what would happen when he did. And it made him wish he could just spend out his days getting drunk and living out his days alone. But even that was getting old. He stood up and made to leave.

"I'll get in touch about those interviews then, shall I?" She asked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"And we'll discuss everything when I call you on Friday."

"Yeah."

"Okay. It was nice to see you Vincent."

"Yeah, you too."

"See you," she said, giving him a nod as he left. One thing he did like about Dolores was that she was straight to the point and he didn't have to stick around any longer than he had to. She didn't make him talk any more than he wanted to, and she really was helping him.

He thought about going to pick up some beer before going home, then decided against it because he didn't fancy the extra weight. Plus he had very little money left, and he kind of needed that to eat until he got a job.

He had shoved the letter from Mia in his pocket. He would read it later, probably. He didn't like to let himself stop long enough to miss her, to miss any of them. He still had all the other letters she had written him. Updating him on how everybody else was doing, and what they were all up to. He was glad that he knew those things.

He had wandered all the way home automatically, which was a good thing as it meant he hadn't realised just how hot he was. As soon as he got inside, he stripped off his shirt and opened all the windows, before collapsing on his couch. He closed his eyes, taking out the letter he held it in his hand as a light breeze made it's way over to him, cooling his damp skin.

Suddenly, he got the urge to do something he hadn't done since, well, _that _time. He bumbled around his apartment trying to find a decent bit of paper and a pen, finding that his hand was itching to do something. When he finally had some decent material, he sat down and let his hand do the rest, not even thinking.

To look at him, one most likely wouldn't think of Vince as the artistic kind. But believe it or not, he was, and he was actually damn good at it. When he was young, he had always been into cars – being friends with Dominic he probably didn't have much of a choice – but his main passion was in drawing.

His mother had been an artist, and most of the memories he had of her involved her painting or making something. He guessed she had passed that on to him, because if he ever had a pen in his hand he would doodle little things without really thinking about it.

An hour and a half later, he had sketched out a huge picture of an eagle intertwined with a dragon. It was a little rough around the edges, but it was looking pretty radical. He examined his work, touching parts up here and there. He stared at it for a moment, tapping the pencil against his temple. He had no idea where the idea came from, but it had somewhat inspired him.

And he had decided - this was going to be his next tattoo.

He vaguely recalled walking past a tattoo place not far from his apartment, and that was his plan for tomorrow – even though he had little cash, he knew that if he went in he would have something to work for. Something he could place on himself as a reminder of this point in his life, despite his newest scars, he wanted something he himself had control over.

He smiled to himself, feeling accomplished. He went into the kitchen, hoping there were some leftover ingredients from the morning. Finding some eggs and bread, he made himself a fried egg sandwich and went back into the living room to eat it. It was mid-afternoon, so there wasn't much on the tube except some cheesy soap stories and chat shows, so he just left the same channel on while he tucked into his lunch.

He was just finishing up when there was a knock at his door. He didn't give a thought to who it could be, his good mood couldn't be phased by anyone today. That was, until he saw who was on the other side.

A police officer stood before him, eyeing his bare torso sceptically. "Are you Vincent Hopper?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** - Samesies!

**AN** - Whoa, two updates, you say? That's right, hard to believe isn't it? Well, I'm on a roll and my fingers were itching to get this wrote so I do hope you enjoy this. Thanks for reading!

Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints

Act One

_Vince_

"Are you Vincent Hopper?"

"Urm, yeah? Is there a problem?" He asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under the officers probing eyes. He crossed his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes, suddenly wishing he'd put his shirt back on before answering the door. He'd never been ashamed of his body before, but probing eyes made him feel small now and he liked to keep his scars hidden as much as possible.

"Well, I'd just like to ask you a couple of questions, if that's okay?" Vince nodded. "May I come in?"

"Urm, yeah, sorry," Vince replied. He stepped out of the way to allow the uniformed official past, shutting the door behind him. He grabbed his shirt from the back of the couch and slipped it back on, feeling the heat again straight away. He sat down on the couch and the young guy, possibly a rookie, perched on the edge of the chair opposite and crossed one leg over the other. Vince idly wondered about the sexuality of this guy, which may have explained the way he first looked at his bare torso.

"I'm officer Jenkins, I'd just like to ask you a couple of questions, you're not under interrogation it's just procedure following up an investigation." There was a certain something in his voice, he spoke very clearly and in a slightly feminine, airy way.

"Okay," he nodded. Even though he wasn't being investigated, he still felt a little hot under the collar and it wasn't just the summer heat that was getting to him now.

"You're currently the owner of a white VW Polo, correct?"

"Yeah. Well, I was. It was stolen the other day actually." The officer looked at him questioningly, obviously not expecting this revelation.

"Ah right, well that answers my next question. You didn't report it stolen?"

"No. But if you've seen the car you know why."

"How's that?"

"It's a pile of junk. I mean, it worked, but if I went into a parking lot to boost a car, it would've been the last one I would've chose." Vince explained this, hoping the officer would think this a liable excuse. It was the truth, for the most part, but he wasn't going to go telling him that he was involved in the robbery of his own car. The situation was preposterous enough without him explaining that yes, someone had stolen his car despite it being scrap metal, and yes he had caught the thief but the person still drove the car anyway and ended up getting chased by some mad men, who they had to ram into another vehicle in order to escape and then abandon the car.

Sure, that would go down a real treat.

Jenkins laughed a little and uncrossed his legs. Vince was unsure but was Officer fresh face actually flirting with him? "Okay, so where was your vehicle stolen, Mr. Hopper?"

"It was parked in the lot at Costco. I was just coming out of the store and some little punk told me that my car was being jacked, so I ran towards it but I was too late."

"Right," said Jenkins, making notes in a little flip pad. He tapped the end of his pen playfully against his lip. "And what time approximately would you say this happened?"

"Urm, it was about four-ish, I think."

"So you have no idea what happened to you car after this point?"

"No."

"And did you happen to get a look at the suspect?"

"No. All I saw was my car leaving the parking lot, I couldn't see who was driving." The words fell out of his mouth before he knew what he was doing. Part of him wanted to tell the truth, wanted to keep the slate clean after everything that had happened in the past few years, but for some reason he lied. He had a feeling, in the pit of his stomach, that he hadn't seen the last of Jenny and for some reason he couldn't explain, he wanted to help her.

"Okay, well I think that's all I need," replied the young man, closing his notepad, and placing it back in his pocket. He put his hat back on his head and stood up, making his way to the door with Vince not far behind. "We found your car, Mr Hopper but there was extensive damage to it. - the left side mainly. Although you haven't make a formal report about it being stolen, it is now being treated as such, but obviously you've been ruled out as a suspect in the accident." He held Vince's gaze a little longer than was needed, before looking away shyly. "We may need to speak to you some more, but we'll be in contact if so. Thanks for your time, Mr. Hopper."

"No problem," Vince gave a half smile, opening the door for him. Jenkins held out his hand, and Vince paused before shaking it, receiving a little more than a squeeze.

"Bye," said the officer, before turning and leaving.

Vince shut the door behind him, still smiling slightly to himself. What an odd day it had been. He went to the window and watched as Jenkins walked out of the building and back to his squad car. When he was sat in the drivers seat he looked up at Vince's building, and Vince hoped that he couldn't see him watching. His eyes roamed over the street and he noticed two guys sitting in a car further down, also watching his building. And he suddenly felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something told him they weren't there by coincidence.

He had no idea what was going on now. He thought he had served his time for his mistakes already but he was being visited by the police and now, apparently, being watched by two machismo's.

He didn't want to sit down and worry it out, so he decided to put it to the test. He grabbed his wallet, keys and the drawing from last night from the coffee table, flicking the TV off as he went. He took the stairs down to the ground and made his way out into the daylight, figuring he could kill two birds with one stone.

He set off down the street, being careful to avoid looking at the burgundy vehicle and it's occupants. Turning the corner, he heard an engine fire up and he knew for sure that they were most definitely following him, and he knew that it was all to do with Jenny. He had to find her.

First, he had something to do. He walked the few blocks to the tattoo place and walked inside, relieved by how cool it was in the shop. A guy in a beanie hat, who looked about similar age to Vince looked up. He was wearing a white beater, showing off the amazing tattooed sleeves he had on his arms.

"Hey man, what can I do for you?"

The shop was fairly spacious, pictures of all sorts of tattoos on the wall – from traditional Japanese designs, to classic all-American pin-up girls to simple tribal designs. On one wall, pictures from happy clients and their tattoos, split into sections for each artist that worked at the shop – four in total it appeared. Next to this, was a number of pictures of piercings ranging from simple ear piercings, to people with every which place pierced. There were five doors leading off from the main waiting area, which Vince presumed were where people went to get tattooed in private by their artist.

He was highly impressed by the shop.

Vince took the picture out of his pocket. "Well, I was hoping to get this priced up really. I don't have much money at the moment, but I was wondering if you would be able to adapt this into like a huge back piece?" Vince laid out the picture before him.

The guy examined it and looked back up at him. "Yeah man, this is great. Where'd you find the picture?"

"I did it last night," Vince replied.

"Seriously? Wow, it's awesome," he nodded. "I'm Danny," he added, holding out his hand, which Vince slapped and they did some form of man-shake.

"Vince. So you think you can do it?"

"Totally, I've been needing a challenge. We don't get many bringing things they've drawn themselves so I've basically just gotta get this to the size you want and we'd be good to roll."

"Okay, that's cool. The only thing is, I just haven't got the cash to pay for this at the moment so I won't be getting it done until I get a job."

Danny nodded, picking up the drawing and giving it closer inspection. "This is gonna seem really out of the blue, but would you be interested in working here?"

"What? Are you serious?" Vince exclaimed.

"For real, man. You got some sick drawing skills right here. I know I'm being pretty forward here but we've been looking for someone for a while and you coming in here speaking of needing a job seems like it's meant to be."

Although Vince had never been one for all the superstitious stuff, it did seem too good to be true. Almost like he was meant to walk into the shop at that moment, at that time. What did he have to lose?

"I'm game, man, yeah. I need it," Vince smiled. This day just got curiouser and curiouser with each moment.

"Radical, man. Well, look, I'll keep this drawing of yours and I'll work it up for you. If you stop by tomorrow, you can meet everyone and we'll just take it from there, if that's cool?"

"That's great, man," he said shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"All right, tomorrow it is then," Danny smiled, shaking hands again with Vince.

He made his way back out of the store, noting that the car was parked further up the street, reaffirming his suspicions. Everything just seemed to be happening all at once, it was beginning to be a little too much to swallow, but he was still somewhat content with everything. He had finally got a break from all the crap that had been thrown at him, and it had all come from him going back to his drawing. That was something.

He went back to his apartment, locking his door up doubly, just to make sure. He didn't want to risk anyone coming in to attack him whilst he slept – being followed was enough to make a person paranoid. He stripped off his shirt again, figuring after everything that had happened that day, nobody would disturbing him again. He grabbed a beer and collapsed in front of the TV, set up for the rest of the evening until he went to bed. His watchers would have a long night ahead of them.

x

When he woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was check outside to see if the detective twins were still outside. He couldn't see them, but he couldn't help but feel as though they were nearby. It was only eight thirty, so after brushing his teeth, he did some push-up's and sit-up's before jumping in the shower. Today felt like it was going to be a good day, and he hadn't felt that in a long, long time.

He wolfed down a slice of toast before heading to the tattoo place at around ten. He walked in and Danny was huddled over the counter, with two other guys before him. "Hey Vince," he straightened up, shaking his hand. "This is Devvin," he introduced one guy. He was tall, and almost as wide, with no hair on his head, but an extremely long beard just coming off the middle of his chin.

"Hey," he slapped hands with Vince, and he detected a slight accent in his voice, which he hadn't expected.

"And this is Nick," Danny said, now indicating the second, much slimmer guy. He had hair to his chin, and his lip and septum were pierced. Both of them had tattoos all over their arms too, Devvin's seemed to be more on the traditional side, a pin-up girl was on his right arm, and anchor on his other and several more all over him, including some words in what looked like Russian written across his neck. Nick's were more complicated looking, Vince saw robots and machinery down both arms, seeming to be one continous picture that flowed perfectly down his arms. His tattoos seemed like nothing compared to these guys, but hopefully that would change.

He slapped hands with Nick too, and Danny smiled. "Okay, well Ray ain't here today, and Marla isn't coming in 'til around one so it's just us for now. Marla's actually the piercer here so she just comes and goes as she pleases basically. But yeah, c'mon, I'll show you around."

Vince followed Danny around the shop, learning where everything went, and seeing each of the artist's own room's. He felt at home straight away, and there were a lot of similarities between Danny and Dominic. Mia always said her brother was like gravity, and Vince had always thought it a really corny thing to say, but now he understood what she meant. Everything he said was interesting.

A few clients came in and Vince was thrown straight into work, talking to the people who came in. It was strange, but he felt like he knew what he was doing, he felt like he knew what he should say to these people, even though he didn't really know a great deal about tattooing.

"I've drawn up your piece, man, I forgot to show you," Danny said, pulling out the large stencil he'd made. "Is this the size you were thinking? Like a whole back piece right?"

"Yeah man, that's perfect." Vince said, in awe. He couldn't wait to get it done.

"Well good, because we're gonna get it on you on Friday. I've got the whole afternoon free."

"But I haven't got any way to pay you," Vince said, sceptically.

"Don't worry about that, you can work it off. Besides, look at all your bare skin, we can't have you working here if you've hardly got any tattoos now, can we?" Danny smiled, openly jesting with Vince. "So how did you want it, did you want colour in it, or just black and grey?"

"I dunno really," he replied. He looked at the picture, and back up at Danny. "I reckon probably black and grey, I don't want it to be too cartoony or anything."

"Radical. Can't wait."

All three Danny, Devvin and Nick were with clients when a young woman hustled into the shop. She had snake bite piercings on her lip and half a sleeve on one of her arms. Vince had never been overly keen on big tattoos on women, but this girl seemed able to pull it off. She looked at him questioningly, "Who're you?"

"I'm Vince. Who're you?"

"I'm Marla, I work here tough guy. Where's Danny?" She asked, looking around as she put her sunglasses on top of her head.

"With a client."

"Well, did he see you yet? I wish he wouldn't just leave customers in the shop on their own."

"I'm not a customer, well I guess I kinda am, but I also work here."

"Since when?"

"Since about ten o'clock this morning," Vince replied. She looked him up and down and slowly nodded her head.

"Right, okay. I wish he'd let me know when he hired people, kinda confuses the 'ole noggin, if you get me."

Vince smiled at her, and her face finally broke, making her seem much nicer than she had first let on. "Okay, well I'll be there if you need me," she pointed to her piercing room. "Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand.

"Same," he nodded. He didn't see any more of her that day, but heard her moving around in her room which made him wonder what she could possibly be doing. The rest of the day ran smoothly, and he was told to have Thursday off because she shop would be closed.

He went to bed happy that night, for the second time in a row.

x

There was a frantic banging on his door when he woke up. It was still dark, and he was disorientated. Was he dreaming? A repetition of the noise led him to the conclusion that he wasn't so he got up, stumbling through the darkness to the door. He flicked on the living room light and fumbled with his keys a moment. He opened the door and there stood Jenny.

She was crying and her lip was swollen and bleeding, and she had the beginning of a nasty bruise on her cheek. The red dress she wore was ripped and she wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Jenny?" Was all that he could say, still trying to process the sight before him.

"Vince," she gasped. "I didn't know where else to go!" She sobbed, falling into his arms. "Please...You have to help me..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer - **Samesies.

**AN** - Review? Maybe read my other story because he feels lonely? No pressure, like. Tar!

Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints

Act One

_Vince_

Vince had never known how to handle a crying girl, let alone one that had been beat up. He didn't say anything to her as he shut the door, leading her to the bathroom. He cleaned up her lip – the many fights he found himself in when he was younger had taught him how to treat a flesh wound easy enough. Her tears fell silently as he threw away the tissue. He'd had the feeling she'd be back, before long, but he felt like there was more going on than she let on.

She wrapped her arms around herself, she seemed to have froze up under Vince's intense stare. He felt instantly guilty when he stole a glance at her chest, rising up and down frantically with her laboured breathing. "Do I even want to know?" Vince asked, simply. He was almost positive that she wouldn't share anything with him anyway, but this time he didn't think he really wanted to know anything. She was bringing trouble with her, the guys who had been watching him the previous day were evidence enough for that, and her being there now obviously wasn't going to make things better.

That being said, seeing a woman hurt tended to fire up an anger inside of him. But that came from the countless times he had seen the work his father had inflicted on his mother. He could forgive his father for everything else, for the countless times Vince had walked into his fist – heck, he preferred to be beaten within an inch of his life rather than see his mother unable to move. He saw her turn into an empty shell. It was when she stopped painting that he knew he had to take action, and that he did. Sixteen by this time, he was almost fully grown, and already taller than his father. And he had stood up to him. And he had left.

His father would forever be remembered as the wife-beating bastard in his eyes, and that was that.

Jenny's tears had stopped now, and she seemed to be regaining a little composure. "I know you don't want all of this trouble. I'm sorry. I just...I couldn't go anywhere else."

"Well, I'm not gonna just throw you outta my door. And if you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine. But if you are gonna stay here, you can tell me that those guys that were sat outside yesterday aren't gonna come knockin' on my door and take out my kneecaps."

Jenny's eyes widened, "Vince I have no idea what you're talking about. What guys?"

"You mean you don't have any idea why two guys in a weird red coloured car would be sat outside my apartment all day? Or why they would follow me around town?"

"Seriously...The only thing I can think of is if they think I'm here, which I guess now they're right...Shit, I should go. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No," Vince stopped her from leaving the bathroom by blocking the doorway. "You'll stay here. You can't leave if they're out there, not if they've got anything to do with the person who did this to you." He looked her up and down, just noticing that the rip in her dress was revealing her panties now. He had to stop looking at her in _that_ way.

"So...what do you wanna do?"

"We'll think about that in the morning okay? I'm gonna fall asleep on my feet if I don't get some shut eye and I can't think straight."

"Oh...okay. I'm just gonna use the toilet then," she said. He left, shutting the door behind him and he wandered the few steps to his bed. He collapsed onto his back, and before he knew it he had fallen asleep.

x

He snuggled closer to the warm body next to him, barely registering his surroundings, just knowing he was as comfy as hell. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at the tumble of jet black hair that lay across his chest, at the feminine hand with chipped purple nail polish on the nails. Her leg was hooked over his and she wriggled closer to him. He breathed a heavy contended sigh.

Then, the events of a mere few hours prior came back to him. He couldn't remember going to sleep, or her falling asleep on him. She stirred and he felt her tense up. She was awake. She moved slowly, half sitting up and resting her weight on her arm. She looked down at him, eyes a mixture of confusion and worry. The bruise on her face had come out now, bright purple, and her lip and swelled. She swallowed thickly and groaned.

"We didn't...did we?" She asked.

"I'm pretty sure I'd remember something if it'd happened," Vince grumbled, through a yawn. She sat up fully now, kneeling on the bed and turning to face him.

"My face look that bad?" She asked, tenderly touching her cheek after noticing the look he gave her.

"It looks sore," he replied. He sat up himself, leaning back against the wall. "How're you feelin'?"

"Okay, I guess...How're you?"

"I'm okay," he nodded. The air was awkward between them, even though there really wasn't any reason for it to be. "So..."

She began laughing, and after a second he joined her. "This is stupid," she said, smiling, despite her lip hurting when she did. "Why is this so weird?"

"Maybe because you tried to steal my car and then random things keep pushing you back to my doorstep," Vince quipped.

"That might have a little something to do with it," she grinned.

"C'mon, I'm starved. Let's eat," Vince said, getting up. He offered her his hand and he helped her gracefully get off of the bed. As soon as he left his room, however, he knew that something was off. Things seemed out of place, like they had been disturbed somehow.

He cautiously entered the living room, and his suspicions were confirmed. It was a mess. Paper was strewn everywhere, the clothes that had still been in boxes were now all over the place. He went over to the coffee table, frantically looking for something.

"Was it like this last night?" Jenny asked, still stood in the doorway. Vince didn't answer her, but kept on looking for it instead. He was on his hands and knees when he saw that familiar handwriting. He grabbed the letter and turned it over – it was open. He still hadn't read it, but now somebody else had and he had no idea why.

"Vince?" He looked up at Jenny, suddenly feeling a rage inside him. This was her fault.

"I'm fucking sick of this," he grunted. He barged past her, going into the bathroom and slamming the door. He turned the taps on full, and perched on the edge of the bath, the letter in his hands. His heart was racing now. Who had been in his place, while he was sleeping? How had he not noticed? He pulled the letter out of the envelope and opened up the piece of paper, eyes skimming across the words quickly, barely taking it all in. Once he was done, he read it again, at a slower pace. It was pretty much the same as the others, Mia mentioned they were all doing well. There was no mention of Jesse. There was no mention of where they were. Somehow, this relieved him.

He turned the letter over, but his heart stopped in his throat. There was a P.S. And it was her new cell phone number. Whoever had read the letter, now had that number. He knew it shouldn't matter, but it did. It mattered a lot.

He stripped out of his clothes and changed into fresh boxers, jeans and a vest. Splashing some of the cold running water over his face, he shut off the taps and stared at himself in the mirror. What the hell was going on?

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, Jenny was crouched down against the wall just outside the door. She looked up but he said nothing to her. He had stuffed the letter into his pocket and he went to his room, grabbing some scrunched up bills and shoving them along with it. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he took his keys from the side and let himself out.

x

He could barely walk straight. He had spent his remaining thirty dollars getting inebriated at the local bar, and it was dark when he left. He hadn't gone straight there of course, he had roamed around for a while, thankful that there were no signs of anyone mysterious watching over him. He headed back to the apartment, where he knew he would either vomit or pass out, possibly both.

He had read the letter a million times while in the bar.

When he opened his door, he found the TV was on and Jenny was sitting on the couch wearing one of his t-shirts over her sham of a dress. "You're still here," he slurred. She looked at him through a haze of cigarette smoke and he saw the half empty bottle of whiskey by her feet on the coffee table. Her eyes were bloodshot, he figured due to crying and possibly alcohol.

"I thought you were never coming back," she said softly. She had tidied up too, he managed to notice. He stumbled over to the chair and collapsed into it.

"You need to stop bull shittin' me now," he said plainly, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

"Excuse me?" She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of how to deal with him in his drunken state.

"What happened to you Jenny? Why are you here? Why me?"

"I...I don't know Vince." She closed her eyes, taking a long drag on her cigarette. "Everything got so messed up, I don't know what to do any more."

"What got messed up?"

He stared at her intensely, cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. After a long silence, she finally began to speak. "Well, I told you about my boss?" He nodded once. "Well, one of the first nights I worked for him, I had stayed behind to try and catch up with things and he came into my office. He was so nice...I mean, I liked him and I kinda had a stupid crush on him. We were talking and joking, y'know and I kissed him and then...Well, my desks never been truly clean since that night." She looked away from Vince, seemingly ashamed at having admit this to him. "So, ever since that night we would hook up every so often. It was completely physical and it only happened at work. But somehow, this meant he would reprimand me every time I talked to another guy at work, and cover it up as me having typed something up wrong, I dunno..."

"Well, last night I went to see him. He was in his office and I just slipped right in. We were talking, well arguing more like," she swallowed, and paused to light up another cigarette. "But then all of a sudden he turned against me and he pinned me up against his desk. He wouldn't let me go, and he ripped my dress and when I tried to get away he..." Her voice had cracked slightly and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "He wouldn't stop..."

She got up and began to walk past him. He grabbed her wrist and pulled himself up, staring down at her. He wanted so much to be angry with but instead, he found himself leaning down to kiss her. He was rough with her, pushing her up against the wall hard, pushing his hips into hers and forcing his tongue in her mouth. He didn't seem to care whether or not she was trying to break free, or whether she was kissing him back, he couldn't tell.

When he pulled away, both of them panting, he shook himself off and backed away. "Sorry," He mumbled, unsure of what he'd just done, and more importantly, why he had done it. He left her there and he headed into his room, shutting the door.

He had been stupid. Why had he done that to her? After she just admitted to him that she had been raped?

He sat on his bed.

He passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** - Samesies.

**AN** - Okay, bear with me, lovely readers. All will be revealed over time, but I can assure you that in the next few chapters, things will happen - BIG things. So, enjoy this, I hope you do. Thanks for the reviews!

Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints

Act One

_Vince_

The raging headache he woke up with confirmed that he had been horrendously drunk the previous night. He could barely remember how he got home, but was glad that he had woken up in his own bed and not the gutter. He had work, his first official day. And he remembered that he was getting his tattoo also. He was psyched and it was enough for him to almost forget his hangover - until he stood up.

He raced to the bathroom and puked in the bath. He didn't know why he didn't puke in the toilet, but it was too late for such thoughts – plus he hadn't thrown up due to alcohol in a long time. He knew he must've exceeded his limits by far. He cleaned out the bath and brushed his teeth for longer than usual, trying to rid the stale taste from his mouth. Then he jumped in the shower.

When he got out, the whole room was full of steam. He rubbed a face sized circle in the mirror so that he could trim his beard. He rubbed a towel on his head in a quick attempt to dry his hair, then he stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room so he could grab some clothes from his makeshift closet – a large box.

It was then that he noticed he wasn't wearing a towel and there was a curious pair of eyes looking at him from the couch. He blinked and then hurriedly made his way to his room, holding a t-shirt over his shame.

When he re-emerged, he was fully dressed and somewhat red in the face. "Morning," Jenny said, trying to cover a snigger but failing.

"Sorry about that," he said, meekly, while making himself a cup of coffee.

"You were pretty drunk last night..." She stated, trailing off at the end.

"I think I must've been, I don't even remember coming home. What time did I get in?" He asked, throwing three painkillers in his mouth and following them with a hot sip of his morning beverage.

"Urm, I think it was around eleven thirty? I'm not too sure really. You sat down and talked with me a while...Do you remember that?"

"Really? No, last I remember was being in that bar down the street," he replied. She just nodded her head and got up to make herself some coffee too. There seemed to be more she wanted to say, most likely about what had been said last night but he had no idea what had happened and he didn't want her to talk about it if she didn't want to. He just hoped he hadn't done anything he would regret, which had happened often enough. "How're you feeling today?" He asked her, noting that the swelling was going down slightly.

"Okay...I feel like I'm burdening you by being here though. I'm going to try and get hold of some people. See if I can get out of town."

"You're not burdening me," he said, quietly. He was actually a little shocked that the words fell from his mouth, but he did mean it. It was actually kind of nice having someone around for a change. After living with the team for so long, and dare he say it being surrounded by other people in prison, he began to hate solitude. And yet, he still couldn't bring himself to find _them. _

She looked at him as she sat back down at the table, and he could have sworn there was something in her eyes that was screaming at him. Only, he couldn't figure out what it was.

The clock informed him that the time was nine forty-five, so he stood up, finishing his drink in one big gulp. "I've gotta get to work. If the phone rings, just let the machine get it."

"Okay," she said, a confused look on her face.

He left her in the kitchen and walked the short distance to work. Danny had just arrived and was locking the door to his car – a '76 Mustang. Vince raised his eyebrows, impressed by it's beauty.

"Nice, ain't she?" Danny grinned, as he unlocked the door to the shop.

"Classy," Vince nodded.

"So, you ready to get inked up buddy?" Danny asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Vince.

"Heck yes. I can't wait."

"Cool. I've got a client this morning, but we'll get it done this afternoon. Make sure you have a good lunch." Danny said. The others arrived for work and things ran smoothly throughout the morning. Vince talked to customers – one guy in particular who was getting the last space free on his body tattooed by Devvin. Vince hadn't considered himself a 'people person' before but talking to these people who had such amazing stories to tell intrigued him, and it just came naturally to him. He was actually having fun. He didn't want to spoil the way he felt but he still couldn't help feel as though something bad was going to ruin it for him, but he pushed that aside. He would deal with everything as it came.

Nick had bought everyone lunch and Vince had wolfed down a much needed burger, large fries and three doughnuts. He was ready to go.

Danny had made Vince follow him into his room; it was all white, covered with pictures of his family on one wall, and polaroid's of some of his best work on another. Pink Floyd played softly, making Vince smile. He heard rustling behind him as Danny prepared the outline for his tattoo.

"All right, you wanna just take off your shirt and we'll get this put on you," Danny said. Vince obeyed, discarding his shirt to one side. Danny placed the transfer onto Vince's back, taking his time to get it perfect. He rubbed hard against it to make the transfer stick before carefully peeling it off of Vince's back. "Okay, take a look, tell me what you think."

He handed over a mirror to Vince and he looked at it, seeing the reflection from a wall-mounted mirror of his back. "Wow. That looks tight, man."

"Really? I've never got it right the first time, so don't be afraid to say if it's not how you want it."

"No, really, it's perfect."

"Radical. Okay, if you wanna just sit with your front against the bed and cross your arms on top of it, that'd be perfect."

Vince did so while Danny put on a pair of surgical gloves and prepared the ink and his needles. "So how long you been tattoin' for?" Vince asked.

"About twelve years. My wife's dad got me into it when I was like seventeen trained me up and all that." Danny explained. "Okay, you ready?" Vince nodded and Danny began his work.

"So, you're married?"

"Widowed."

"Oh...Sorry, man. I had no idea."

"Nah, it's okay. It's good to talk about her. She was a good woman."

"How long...?"

"She died about three years ago. She was in a store doing some shopping and it got held up." He said, over the buzz of his tool. "There was a shoot out and she got caught in the crossfire. She died in the hospital two days later."

"Christ...That's awful." Vince's brow furrowed, he hadn't meant to put his foot in it straight away, this was his knew boss and he already knew that about him.

"Yeah, I miss her, but thinking about her makes me smile, y'know?" Vince nodded. "So what's your story, man?"

"I dunno, what you wanna know?"

"What job's have you done in the past?"

"I used to work in a garage with some buddies of mine...Used to race too but kinda fell outta that."

"Oh yeah? So, you like a genius under the hood of a car?" Vince braced himself slightly at a particularly painful part of his tattoo, but was grateful at how easy Danny was to talk to.

"Nah, not really. I was okay, but my friend Jesse – he was the boy wonder." He smiled at the memory of Jesse, remembering the countless times he'd had to go to him for help with the Maxima, with Roxanne. "I mean like, he could look at an engine and within ten seconds he could tell you what was wrong with it. It was crazy."

"I've always been envious of people like that," Danny chuckled. "It really makes you think, I mean you think you're pretty good at something and then someone comes along and blows your idea outta the water, ya know?"

"Totally."

"Take Nick – he's what seven years younger than me and he's already, dare I say it, better than me?"

Vince laughed, "Think I got the wrong guy tattooing me?"

"Hey, don't make me fire your ass! You haven't been here long enough for me to make a good enough decision yet bro!"

"I'm kidding!" He exclaimed, as Danny fake-threatened him by holding up the needle to his face.

"You best be," he smiled, carrying on with the back piece. "So, what made you leave the garage?"

Vince tensed up again, only this time it wasn't due to the pain. Where did he begin? "Well, I probably shoulda mentioned this before now but..I just got outta prison." He said. Danny remained silent causing Vince to instantly regret his admission. He knew that he wasn't going to be able to tell people about his past without bringing it up but he really wished he hadn't.

"I know I should've said something..."

"Hey, man, we all got our secrets. I understand why you didn't say anything. Kinda took me by surprise, is all." Vince breathed a sigh of relief. And he suddenly felt the need to explain himself.

"It's not like I killed anyone, ya know? I just got caught up in a bad situation, and it was stupid."

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Vince. I'd like to make my own decision about you, no matter what you did in the past. I need to know that my staff are going to be safe though. Can I rest easy about that? You're not gonna fuck up, are you?"

"No way. You've got my word."

"All right then."

Vince's face was covered in sweat, but he was glad that Danny kept up the conversation while he worked. "So, how'd you feel about tattooing? Would you be interested in learning?"

"Whatcha mean? Like becoming an apprentice or somethin'?"

"Yeah man."

"Seriously? I think I'd be up for that. Definitely."

"Radical."

It had taken nearly four hours, but it was finally complete. Danny handed over the mirror once again and Vince examined his new skin. He was in awe. Danny had added his own touches to the piece but it basically looked exactly like his drawing, which amazed him. It near enough covered his whole back and it was covered in detail.

"I don't know what to say. It's amazing."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely...wow. I didn't expect it to be so, just, this fuckin' awesome."

Danny grinned at him and then shouted the others to come in and take a look. "I can' believe you drew that, man," Nick exclaimed, as he, Devvin and Marla looked on.

"Guys, Vince is going to be the new addition to the shop. He's my new apprentice," Danny explained.

"Sweet," Nick smiled, bumping fists with Vince and nodding.

"Cool, I'll be back in a second then," Marla said, slipping out of the room while Danny began to apply a saline solution to Vince's back and then cover it with cling film.

Marla came back in the room, her hands behind her back, which made Vince suspicious. She nodded at the other guys and Danny and Devvin grabbed his shoulders, pushing him down into the chair and holding him there.

"What the f-?" Vince was cut off when he saw that Marla was holding a needle of her own, and a canister of some sort. "What is this?" He asked, wriggling about in his chair, unable to free himself of Danny, and especially Devvin's, grasp. "What's that for?" He asked, his eyes wide.

Marla smiled at him, "Initiation process, sweetie." All four of them laughed, but it didn't make Vince feel any better. Nick was holding the needle and something else in his hands, while Marla sprayed the canister on Vince nipple.

"No! No way! Don't do it!" He shouted, but she was already drawing two dots on his freshly pert nipple.

"Brace yourself," she said, as she took the needle from Nick's hands and jabbed it through his nipple, with precision.

"What the – OW!"

"Don't be such a sissy," she smiled, now taking the ring from Nick's hand and replacing the needle with it. "There, you're part of Team Nipple now. Welcome to the gang," she said, cheerily, wiping away the small amount of blood around his fresh piercing. Danny and Devvin let him go, Devvin roughing up Vince's hair and laughing heartily.

"Hey, we've all got one," Danny grinned, as he, Nick and Devvin all showed him there own piercing.

"Don't look at me, a lady doesn't pierce and tell," Marla winked, pulling her gloves off and throwing them in the bin.

"C'mon, put your shirt on you big girl. It's time to get drinks," Danny said. Vince shook his head, but couldn't help the smile that overcame him. He felt like he belonged again, like he was part of a team again. He put his shirt on and followed them out of the shop. Danny locked up and then they all jumped into his Mustang. He sped down the road, driving them all to a bar nearby.

Vince had forgotten all about his troubles. He was living in the now. He had new friends, and though they couldn't replace the old ones, he was happy.

"Why are you so smiley?" Marla asked him, as they carried five bottles of Corona between them, over to a booth where the others sat.

"I've secretly always wanted a nipple ring." He said seriously.

And then they both burst into laughter.


End file.
